DISCLAIMER: I have no rights-- legal or otherwise, real or implied-- to any of the characters created by Joss Whedon. This is his sandbox; I'm just playing in it, and hoping he doesn't catch me.
RATING: NC-17, I'm sure...
PAIRING: S/A
DISTRIBUTION: If I told you yes for any of my other slash-y stuff, then you can have this one, too. Also, my site, which is updated by the lovely Goddess Jeannette.
FEEDBACK: is nice.
DEDICATIONS: to Jeannette, of course... also to Mystie (modem fried to bits on me... got a new one now...). To my favourite S/A writers, as well (you know who you are!!!)
NOTES: Okay, this is a series now, too... seems I can't write little one-off fics anymore. So this happens sometime after Spike tells Buffy he loves her, but before the season finales for S2:A and S5:B. She still shot him down, and he went to LA where he's been staying with his Sire. Vague enough for you??? Oh, and * *= emphasis.
POV: Angel, then Spike, repeatedly. Changing perspectives indicated by *s.
*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*
So what the hell do I do now? That's the question I can't seem to find an answer for. I mean, he came to me, and he... well, I guess you could say he seduced me, although there wasn't really a lot of seduction involved in sneaking up on me while I was asleep and just... sucking my cock.
It's what he did, though, and then with the fist in his ass, and the fucking, and...
I *thought* he enjoyed it! He came and everything. Twice. But still... He won't let me *look* at him now, and every time I try, he just... cringes.
He cringes away, and I hate it that I've somehow managed to hurt him yet again. He came to me for comfort. I gave him a fist and a fuck. I'm such an asshole.
* * *
Okay, this seems to be working well for me. The bloody pillock is brooding away, only this time it's not about the 'state of his soul' or 'the things he did when he was evil'.
No, he's brooding about *me*, and that's exactly what I want. I want him to be all soul-sick and heart-sore over the way he's treated me, and I seem to have accomplished that with my whole 'oh, no, I'm scared' act. So why do I feel so empty inside?
'S not like I love my poncy git of a Sire, right? Want him, sure, but... love him? Not a bloody chance. Right?
Still, it makes me feel... bad-- and not in the *good* way-- to see that sad look on his face. I want to make him smile, and that just fucking pisses me off! Why *should* I want him to be happy? It's not like he's done anything for me in the last hundred or so years, after all.
He left me. Got all soul-having and left me with Dru. He ignored me when he finally came back to us in China, then he left me again. He tried to run me out of Sunnyhell. Tried to kill me more than once. And if that wasn't enough? He took my ring, and destroyed it.
Of course, he probably left because that nancy-boy soul of his couldn't bear to see what he'd made... regretted making me all 'evil', if I don't miss my guess. And by China, I was pretty much making a show of how wrapped up I was with my Dark Princess. Maybe he still felt guilty in the Slayer's town; didn't want to have to claim responsibility for the Big Bad. And I guess.. if he'd *really* wanted me dead, I wouldn't be wandering around this dusty old hotel of his.
And now, I just feel bad for making him all upset. Not that I'm gonna admit it. *Ever*. But maybe he doesn't deserve this.
It's not like I didn't enjoy the other night. I mean, fuck! Even that whole 'fisting' thing was kind of... Oh, bloody hell, it hurt like a mother-fucker. But it felt good, too. Not as good as Poufy's cock did, but... and his mouth.
Jesus-fuck, his mouth! Those soft, thin lips fastened tight around my base, my hooded tip lodged deep in the back of his throat... Yeah, my prat of a Sire sucks a mean cock. Can't help but wonder who he used for practice, though.
And that thought alone is another fucking nightmare. Bloody bastard has no right running around sharing himself with whomsoever wanders by! He's *my* Sire; fuck it all, he should be concerned with taking care of me before anything else! Right? Right.
But I've started this act, and I'm gonna have to finish it. Can't let the sodding prick know I've been playing him, can I? Not unless I want to spend the *next* hundred years making it up to him, anyway, and I *don't*.
* * *
I *really* don't understand my boy sometimes. He moped about for days, acting like he was afraid of his own shadow, jumping every time I entered any room he was in, and then... No warning, no sign of anything changing, but... Suddenly, he's back to just those jeans again.
Oh, he's still acting a little bit... shaky, maybe, but... I don't know.
I don't know what he's thinking, or what he wants. I don't know why he's being so... Hell, I can't even explain what he's being. It's disturbing, though. And I don't know what to say to him, because...
Every time I look at him, all I can think about is how *good* it felt to prove my mastery of his tight, lean body. How much I loved sinking deep into that perfect ass of his. How it almost felt like the years had been stripped away, and we were once again Angelus and his favoured childe, fucking and sucking, and just enjoying each other.
I can't help thinking about how his cock felt in my mouth, either. That thick, pulsing vein sliding against my tongue, his fingers tight in my hair. The sensation of his slim hips rising from the bed as he tried to slip all the way in to my belly, it felt like. For my first blow job-- from the *giving* end, I mean-- it had to qualify as a success.
Just thinking about it has me hard and throbbing, though, and he's strolling across the lobby again, his bare feet padding lightly on the oriental rug, and... God. If I don't get out of here, I just might throw him down and...
And that thought isn't helping at all. No, I need a long, cold shower. Or a long, hot fuck, but I won't do that to him again; not when he doesn't want me. It's times like this that I wish I could just go out and get laid, but I can't. Not with a soul. Not when the one I care for is nearby, anyway, and... did I actually just think that? Is it possible?
Fuck. It is. It's not only possible, but... apparently, it's a certainty. I knew I cared for him back in the beginning, before the Gypsies, but... Christ. That's why I never killed him, isn't it? Not because he was strong, or smart, but because... I love him? Still?
Oh, this is *so* much worse than I thought.
* * *
Too bad I'm not a more patient sort, but I'm a vampire, right? We're not exactly known for our tendency to just sit and wait-- Broody's inclinations aside. The pissy little bitch just sits and stares, like he's waiting for me to break or something, and... I've had e-fucking-nough. I figured he'd have been all over me in a matter of hours after our little escapade, even with that 'poor me' attitude of mine, but... Sodding git won't even *talk* to me, much less shag me unconscious.
Not that I wouldn't rather be the one shagging *him*, but he's got me so bloody worked up with all his sighing and sorrowful glances, I'm just about ready to say sod all and throw myself down at his feet, naked ass waving in the air. *Anything*! I'm tired of seeing him acting all 'Angel with the Slayer', and I'm fucking *sick* of feeling like an asshole for making him feel that way.
Still the idea of plunging deep into that broad, firm ass of his is beyond enticing. I can imagine what it would be like, what *he* would be like. Tight, and hard, and slicker than fuck, once I lubed him up. Sliding into him would be like going home, I guess, even though I've never had the sodding git straining beneath me.
Oh, yeah, that would be just *perfect*! And why the fuck not? I took his great sodding *fist* in my ass, didn't I? The least Broody the Wonder-Soul can do is let me fuck him, right? Hell, he can suck my cock a few hundred more times, too. Liked that, I did.
Of course, he's watching me again, so I have to force my erection away. Wouldn't want him thinking I'm all hot and bothered by the way his deep, dark, chocolatey-- oh, fuck all, they're just *brown*! Anyway, wouldn't want him thinking his *eyes* can affect me like that. Not yet. A bloke's entitled to some secrets, after all, right?
But I can *smell* how hard he is. Bloody fuck, I can feel it in my bones, and... this has gone on long enough.
Tonight. Once again, *I* have to be the one to start things, but if I'm starting them, I'm for damned sure gonna make them go the way I *want* them to. He'll probably be pissed off for a while, but fuck him.
Oh, yeah. *Fuck* him.
* * *
Damned childe, walking around in just his pants, looking good enough to eat. Damn him to Hell! Oh, wait, I already *did* that when I turned him.
The water is fucking *cold*, and sadly, even that isn't helping. No, I'm still hard as a rock, only now I'm wet and uncomfortable on top of it.
I'm a fucking vampire, and I'm worried about forcing my attentions on my boy, and... there's something *wrong* about that. Even my demon agrees; hell, he's been trying to tell me that same thing for days now. I guess I should listen.
He's an odd one, Angelus is, but he's right. Spike *is* mine, and I *should* feel free to do with him as I see fit. The fact that I love him makes it even more imperative.
It's that love that's making me hesitate, though. I need to take this slowly. Make it clear to my boy that I don't want *just* his body. There's so much more that I need from him now, and... I don't know that he's going to want to give it, but I have to try.
Tomorrow. I'll start proving how much I care tomorrow. Right now, I need to sleep; I have a feeling that whatever happens, I'm going to need my strength. First I have to take care of this raging erection, though.
* * *
Who'd have thought the Pouf had it in him? Fuck knows *I* didn't expect him to have a very nice set of chains just laying about. Well, laying about in the bottom of a locked chest in the far corner of the basement, but still! And they're *strong*, too. Strong enough to hold a pissed off vampire, anyway, so they're just what I need.
It isn't easy to keep the links from rattling against each other while I head for the sorry wanker's room, but I've always been good with restraints, and lucky me, Poufy didn't even lock his door! Good thing, that, because picking the lock would have required an extra hand or two. Considerate of him.
He looks so fucking good against those dark sheets, all that pale skin and tight, hard muscle. And fuck me if he isn't already laying on his stomach. He twitches just a bit when I close the door behind me, but I'm not worried. It's only his demon sensing another of its kind, after all, and he stills again when that same demon realizes the blood-tie. Nope, Angelus, it's only Spike; no need to wake up or anything.
I consider stripping those nancy-boy silk boxers from him first, but that *would* wake him up, and I can't have that. Not yet. So I move slowly and cautiously, gently fastening the manacles around his wrists. I almost do his ankles, too, but I want him to be able to move a bit, don't I?
He doesn't wake up 'til I pull the chains tight, fastening them to the corners of the iron headboard, but when he does? I smirk wickedly into his flashing golden eyes. "Evening, pet," I tell him, my fingers dancing lightly over my stomach.
I see him trying to figure out what's happening, and wouldn't you know, it actually takes the prancy bugger a few minutes. Like there could be more than *one* reason I'd have him chained face-down to his bed.
* * *
What the *fuck*? I almost think I'm still dreaming, but there's a solidity to the manacle I can see on my wrist that just defies that hypothesis. He... Spike... "You chained me to the bed!" I growl, and yeah, I'm fucking *furious*, but there's a certain almost anticipatory tremor staring in my gut. Spike's in my room, and he's... God, he's pushing his pants down his strong chiseled legs, and... "Let me *go*," I demand, "*Now*!"
I don't know what's gotten into him. I really don't. He's my *childe*! There's no way in Hell he should be thinking what I know he's thinking. But the intent is right there in his face, plain as day, and... "Let me go *now*, or I swear to God I'll kill you!" Okay, I don't really mean it, but he doesn't know that, right? Wrong.
He's still smirking, even while he runs one hand swiftly up my leg. His other hand is wrapped around that long shaft I wanted in my mouth again, and... Why did I turn him? Oh, yeah. Because I felt like it.
"Oh, you won't *kill* me, mate," he says, and his voice is so silky, so laden with dark promises, I can't help hardening against my mattress. "In fact," he goes on, that hand sliding up to stroke my ass through my boxers, "I think you're gonna be begging for more..."
The truly frightening part of all this is that I have a feeling he might be right. I'm already throbbing, and it only gets worse when I hear the loud sound of ripping silk, and feel the cool, still air on my naked rear. It gets even more frightening when that strong hand runs wickedly over my skin. "Stop this now," I try one more time, even though I know it's hopeless. I recognize that tone of voice, after all, and when my boy uses it? Well, let's just say the likelihood of him changing his mind is about on par with that of me going sunbathing by choice.
All I can do is clench my thighs together and hope he gets tired of trying to pull them apart.
* * *
Sodding poncy bastard isn't putting up as much of a fight as I thought he would. It's almost disappointing, really, but... that pale, firm ass of his is too appealing for me to feel let down. The growling is nice, though. Makes me feel all manly to know I have him at my mercy.
His skin is softer than those froufy silk shorts of his. It's like... wet satin and milk under my fingers. Bloody pouf's sweating already.
He's got his legs tight together, and I can't help laughing at that because... I remember trying the same thing the night I woke to eternity, and it's gonna do him just as much good as it did me. Which is *none*. "Might as well just relax and enjoy it, Peaches," I tell him, taking one last look at his fearful expression before I climb onto the bed and straddle his knees. My hands move slowly over the clenched globes of his ass, stroking lightly.
"You brought this on yourself, you know," I say, and I laugh again at the sudden surprise I can feel in the long lines of his body, "Staying away from me these last few days, not even trying to touch me. Got me all riled up, it did." I try to slip one finger into that deep crack of his, but he's far too tense to let that happen. Fuck, anyone would think the prancy pouf's never been done, himself.
The thought has my eyes wide in less than a second, because... maybe he *hasn't*. Fuck knows he never let *me* in. And if that's true... if my Sire's cherry is still as intact as I suspect, then... "I'm going to make you *mine*, pet," I murmur, still prodding at his cleft, "Just like you did to me."
His sudden gasp tells me I'm right in my suspicions, and I lay myself down on his back, my lips just beside his ear. "Don't worry, ducks. When you scream for me, it'll be 'cause you love it." I know he's remembering the first time he took me, though, and how rough he was. But I'm not gonna make him bleed. Not this time, anyway. Not if I can help it.
No, I have to make this good for him, because I can't keep him chained up forever, can I. I mean, eventually, I'll have to let him go, and when I do, I'd rather he didn't come after me with a stake. A long, thick cock-- yes. Stake? Fuck no!
But none of this is getting me into that tight sodding ass of his, is it? Fortunately, I know what will, though, and I roll from his shuddering form, reaching for my pants and the tube in the pocket. "Here we go, luv," I announce, and the look in his eyes is just... priceless.
* * *
Oh, fuck. Spike's actually got lubricant? Shit. That means there really *is* no way this isn't going to happen.
A part of me is happy about that, but for the most part? I'd have to say that about seventy-five percent of my soul, and *all* of my demon, is screaming 'no'! I've never... Not with anyone. And fuck if I want Spike's cock inside me. He may not be as big as I am, but... no fucking way! Of course, I don't seem to have much of a choice in the matter. And this is all because I haven't kept at him since the other night? How is that possible? He never gave any signs of wanting me again; I thought I was doing him a favour by staying away! "Spike," I say, hoping against hope that maybe he'll reconsider, but he only growls, and...
"That's better," he says.
* * *
Much as I disapprove of those poufy silk boxers, they make a damned fine gag. Not that Angel seems to think so, if the way he's glaring at me is any indication. It doesn't matter, though, because it isn't his *face* I'm gonna be looking at for the next little while, is it? "Yeah," I smirk, sitting on the backs of his knees again, "That's *much* better. Don't want any words, you big pouf; just the occasional grunt and moan, and I can hear those just *fine*, thanks."
He's pressing his cheeks together even tighter now, but that's not a big deal, now that I have my handy tube ready, so I twist off the top and toss it over my shoulder. It's not like we won't be using all of it, so why bother keeping track of that sodding bit of fucking plastic?
His skin twitches when I squeeze a long line of the slippery goo along the crack of his ass; mostly in reaction to the temperature, I think. The tube ends up beside me, even as I slide one finger up and down, slowly working the gel deeper into that bloody blissful crevice. Doesn't take much before I'm able to move that finger fully along it, either, not that he's relaxed any. If anything, he's gotten even more fucking tense.
"Calm down, Angel," I order him, rolling my eyes at his oh-so-dramatic resistance. "This is gonna happen whether you like it or not. Might as well at least *try* to enjoy it."
He shakes his head wildly, although that motion stops in shock when I slip that one finger deep into the squeezed-shut opening I've finally reached.
Fuck me, he's tight! Wouldn't have believed it, but he's tighter than I ever imagined! Hell, it's gonna hurt him *plenty* when I finally sink deep into him. Can't be helped, though, and I'm gonna be as gentle as I can. It's still gonna hurt, though.
* * *
Oh... God! I can't... his... oh, *fuck*!
He's got one long finger inside my... in my... in *me*! And shit, I want to just... I don't know *what* I want. The only think I *do* know is... I'm getting more and more scared, because I'm actually *liking* it! And he's pushing it in, then sliding it back out, and... Oh, *fuck*! What was... God, yes, right there, Will, please!
I can feel my demon shouting at me to stop this, but even he knows I can't. My boy's got me bound too tightly and too well for that. And then...
"Fuck!" I shout, the sound swallowed by the silk in my mouth, because... somehow, he's gotten another digit inside me, and... oh, yeah. That's the spot. I can feel myself relaxing a little, my thighs losing that desperate flex, and...
How could I have forced my entire *fist* into my boy? God, I am so damned for that. But I didn't know then; I swear I didn't *know*! And the fact that he managed to find some pleasure in it? Jesus-fuck!
But this... this actually feels... good. One of his knees is trying to settle between my own, and I can't help letting it, and a loud, deep groan flies from me when the other one joins it, and he pushes his hand harder, and... Ohhh!
* * *
Oh, good, the sodding pouf's finally taking it like a man. Don't know that he can take more than three fingers without crying, but that's not a decision he gets to make.
He's fucking tight as a banker's wallet, though; feels good to have him clenched hard around my fingers. But that won't get it done, will it, so I force one more finger into that slick ring of muscle, and I know I'm smiling my 'evil' smile when he grunts loudly and tries to pull away. Too bad for him there's nowhere to go.
I'm throbbing so hard, I'm amazed I haven't cum already, but that's not an option at the moment. No, when I explode, it's gonna be deep inside the pouf's twitching ass, if *I* have anything to say about it. But it's not really the time for talking, so...
My fingers move harder and faster within him, my eyes locked intently on that stretched opening, and when he finally stops trying to get away, and raises himself to meet me? Well, that smile becomes a grin. This really *is* gonna happen; there's nothing either of us can do to stop it now.
My unoccupied hand reaches for the tube on the bed, and when I find it, I squeeze a good amount onto my cock before slowing the hand in my Sire's tight ass and adding more of the slick, viscous gel. As that hand starts moving again, working the lubricant deeper into his reddened hole, I spread the large dollop on my shaft around. Have to make sure I don't hurt him *too* much.
A time will come when he's ready for the kind of pleasure that truly astounding pain can bring, but this isn't it. I know that. I know it even more when I pull my fingers from him and reach up, dragging a couple of his huge sodding pillows down the bed.
I can feel him getting tense again, but there's no help for it, and as I force those pillows under his hips, and feel his thick, long cock against my hand, I can't help but chuckle. Whatever he might say later, he's enjoyed this so far, big pouf that he is.
"Relax, pet," I murmur, as I position the head of my slick, seeping
cock at his tiny opening and start the long, slow slide into his magnificent
body.
* * *
Relax, he says! Like there's any chance of *that*! I mean, okay, I... liked... his fingers. I can't really say I didn't, but... Oh, God! He's... he's ripping me in half with that thing! My fingers are tight around the chains, and I know I'm whimpering into my own boxers, but... How... How can this even be physically possible? How can something that size even *begin* to fit in my... Fuck!
Jesus Christ! Is this what it felt like the first time I took him? If it is, then no wonder he shouted so much. But... after a while, he seemed to enjoy it, and that's the thought I need to hold on to. It has to get better! It *has* to!
God, it's like there's no end to him! He just keeps... pushing, and pushing, and... Thank God. That's his sac I feel against my ass. That's all he's got.
Not that it isn't a fucking hell of a lot, but I don't think any more could fit, and... He's just laying on top of me now.
I can feel the pain pulsing in my anus, but it's fading away, slowly but surely, and he's being much more gentle than I ever was with him. Could it be... does my boy want me to like this? Does he actually care? If he does, then... this is about so much more than him being horny and wanting revenge for me not touching him. Maybe... does he want this kind of a relationship? One where we're as close to equal as possible? I think...
Oh... fuck... he's... *moving*!
* * *
Shit! This is gonna be over so much sooner than I want it to be! He's just too... tight. His twitching ass is holding me too firmly, and I wish I could make this feel as good for him as I *want* it to, but I just don't see myself having that kind of time.
I've been trying to hold still inside him until he's ready for the next step, but fuck that, I can't wait. So I raise myself up on my arms, and pull back slowly, watching my cock emerging from that vise-like hole of his, and when he groans, I reverse the motion, slipping back in. I've never had a virgin before, and fuck me if I ever thought my first would be my own Sire. Hell, I'd planned on taking Willow, way back when, but the sodding dog got there first.
Just as well, really, 'cause Red-- sweet as she may be-- is no match for the great lumbering oaf I'm shagging right now. Never could be, either.
"Angel," I moan, when I'm balls-deep in the magnificent ass again, and fuck me if the ponce isn't catching on, because he's trying to arch back against me, and when he shudders? Well, I know I've found that special spot inside him. The one that convinced me getting fucked was a *good* thing, way back in the day. "That's it, pet," I encourage him, pulling back again.
His soft grunts and whimpers are making me crazy, but I force myself to fall into a steady rhythm, sliding against that gland inside him with each stroke. I almost wish he weren't all chained up now, but... we'd never have gotten to this point if he weren't. Next time, though, 'cause I want to watch his face. I want to feel his cock, hard and throbbing against my belly while I slam myself deeper and deeper into him. Next time.
This time is still plenty special though, what with the great pouf spread wide beneath me. His ass feels like a fucking dream, and the way he's trying to take me deeper convinces me that he isn't gonna kill me when we're done. "Angel," I moan again, my balls tightening wickedly.
* * *
I could have been feeling this way for almost two hundred and fifty years. That's the one thought that's running through my mind. Well, the second thought, because the first one is something like 'God, Spike, yes, do that again. More. *Please*!.' Still, I've been missing out on this feeling for my entire life, and it took my childe to show me.
Of course, I don't think I'd feel this way if it was anyone else forcing their cock in and out of my ass. I can't even imagine someone other than my boy having me this way. I only wish I'd known sooner, because the last hundred and twenty-nine years would have been a hell of a lot more pleasant.
God, I want these chains *off*, though! I understand why they were necessary, but they're not any more, and... But he'd have to stop to unlock me, and I for damned sure don't want *that*, so...
I rock back into his thrusting hips-- as much as I can, anyway, and... there's something inside me that he's pressing against, and it feels... "God!" I scream, and I really don't want my fucking underwear in my mouth anymore.
He's moving harder and faster now, and I can feel myself swelling against the pillows he shoved beneath me, and I just know I can't... God, Spike, hurry! I don't want to cum without you! And I think he must have heard that silent cry, because he's grunting wildly, and his chest is hard against my back, and... there... right there...
I feel him pulsing wickedly, deep inside me, and... God, there's a cool rush filling me even more than his cock already does, and "Spike!" I yell, even as I explode against my own pillows for what seems like hours.
* * *
Never felt anything like it. Like *him*. Oh, I've shagged the occasional bloke from time to time, but it was never like *this*, and maybe it's 'cause the great prancing sod is my Sire; I don't know. Don't care, either, 'cause this feels... right.
I don't want this moment to end, but I know it has to, and when his anus swells just a bit more from the treatment I've given it, and my softening cock starts slipping from the place it's thinking of as 'home', I know it's time.
I take one deep breath, exhaling against Poufy's spine before rolling from him and landing on the bed beside him.
He looks ridiculous laying there all chained up, his own girlie knickers hanging from his lips, but I guess it wouldn't be right to laugh, seeing as I'm the one who put him there. Oh, fuck that. I chuckle wickedly, even as I pull the silk from his mouth.
I'm waiting for some comment, but he's silent as a fucking mouse. Guess he doesn't know quite what to say. 'S not like Hallmark makes a card for this kind of thing... would be funny if they did, though; I can just picture the tear-jerking commercial. But since he's all quiet, I suppose I can do something he's always done for me after fucking me hard. "Shhh," I tell him, even as I move back between his legs.
Damn, I made him bleed after all. Of course, that little bit of Sire-blood makes it even more worthwhile.
* * *
Oh, fuck, what's he doing now? He'd better not be planning on... Oh... Oh, God!
Okay, I know he always seemed to like it when I licked him afterwards, but for some reason, I wasn't expecting him to do it to me... But yeah, I see why he enjoyed it.
There's something soothing about that soft, wet tongue sweeping over my aching asshole. Comforting. Pleasant, even. *Fuck*!
Jesus Christ, he's... my boy's tongue is... "Spike," I moan. Just the sensation of that long, strong, flexible muscle delving into the hole he just pulled his cock from is making me hard again, and when he starts sucking his own fluids from me, I can't help growling.
I don't know what he thinks, but as soon as these chains come off, he's going to get fucked. Slowly. Tenderly. Simply. And for a very long time.
"Spike," I say again, when he finally pulls away, "Unlock these things, will you?"
* * *
So he wants me to set him free, does he? Suppose I can't blame him for that. Still, much as he *seems* to have ended up enjoying my cock in his ass... "Not gonna stake me, are you Peaches?"
There's actually laughter in his voice when he answers, and it kills that tiny bit of fear inside me. "No," he says, jiggling the chains, "I couldn't do that again with a pile of dust, could I?"
Unlocking the manacles takes less than a minute, and I'm sitting on the edge of the bed when he finally rolls over. I don't know which is more amusing-- the slight hiss that comes from Broody's lips when his ass hits the sheets, or his grimace at the sight of his cum all over his pillowcase. Then I notice his straining shaft, and amusement is the last thing I'm thinking about.
My eyes travel slowly up his solid, defined form, and I hear the gasp coming from my lips before I even know it's there. There's so much heat and fire in his eyes, it's stunning. "Pouf?" I ask, and the trembling in my own voice is almost enough to make me sick. Only 'almost', though, because quick as a fucking rabbit, the souled git's got me pinned beneath his sodding huge body.
* * *
Huh. For some reason my boy looks *surprised*. Like he didn't expect me to have some sort of reaction to being taken that way. Poor Spike.
Or not-so-poor Spike, because there's that wicked gleam in his eye again, and he seems to understand that he's about to get 'shagged'. Not fucked, though. Not this time.
No, this time, I'm going to do what I haven't done in far too long. I'm going to make love to him.
He's going to sweat, and heave, and strain beneath me, and when I finally give in and cum deep inside that perfect ass of his, it'll be a relief. For both of us.
I'm not going to tell him I love him, though. Not now. Maybe not ever. Unless he says it first, of course, and even then... Nah. Let the boy suffer.
End.